Memory of The Phoenix; The Hunters [I]

CHAPTER II - THE ELF

12th Era, 16th Orbital Cycle

Avavice-Realm, The Northern Town of Gourdstown, Two Cycles after The Battle of Grace

"Once upon a time a Guild of Hunters, The Hunters of Split, began. They were a simple merry band of hunters, stalking the meaty beasts of Split to feed the masses. But over the cycles the hunters began to see the pain, all of it. All of the strife that was in the world; bandits, Drow, Imps, all kinds of monsters and men that wished nothing except for the deaths of all those innocent.

So once upon a time, The Guild of The Hunters saw all of the pain in the world and decided... Enough. Enough pain, enough war, enough fear. The guild was reformed, turned into a band of warriors, the best of the best, from every race and creed and background. Trained in war with the goal of peace. It was to defend those who couldn't defend themselves. And we will always do so."

- "How The DoS Was Formed", by Elengard Montreal, Third Lord-Commander of The Defenders of Split

Despite the war, disregard the siege and neglecting my wounds. I survived. Despite the sheer loss that Grace had felt, the decimation the entire Realm shared... We didn't lose the war, Grace was not destroyed and Dovia-Realm was not locked away from the outside world, falling into myth and memory.

Through nothing expect for sheer luck, the battle had ended. With little a whisper, Sire had done the impossible. She'd jumped into the Gate, destroyed the rift from the inside and saved Grace, Dovia, and likely all of Split. It goes without saying that she was never seen again, barely anyone recognised her and I never saw the rest of our group again. For all anyone knew, the Gate had shut itself. I learned from other wounded that the rift inside the Gate had exploded outward in a flash of red light and shrieking screams. It had sent out a wave through the Realm, maiming and killing any Demon that was present, destroying hundreds if not thousands of them. The obsidian towers still remained, still standing as a menacing reminder. But they would never again threaten the Realm or world.

Without any Demon presence, and likely the total shock that the destruction of the Demon Gate had caused; the Drow fled. The invading forces ran from Grace and towards whatever strongholds they may have. Within days a Dovian force made up of survivors and reinforcements from out of the Realm prepared to hunt the enemy down, the war beginning anew under the banner of a broken Dovia. Eventually, the Drow would be either wiped out, or pushed out of the Realm.

Though there was no celebration, the battle had lead to a pyrrhic victory unseen on Split. The death toll was unknown, but immense. On top of the losses in battle, many more died from the Gates eruption.

Despite my own injuries and wounds, the constant pain I had received from the red Demon, and the short coma I had fallen into.... I survived.

In the immediate aftermath of the siege breaking down, a group of healers had found me amongst the rubble. Broken but breathing. They moved me outside of the city, towards what remained of the army camp, where a FOB dedicated to medical aid had been created. At first I slept, giving constant aid through potions or magic, but many were worse off than me, and I was simply lucky to have survived. I stayed in that medical tent for nearly three months, waking from my coma within a week and finding life a blur. At first I knew little of what had happened, the siege was a simple blur to me. Even my name had failed to appear in my mind for a long time. But after constant care, plenty of rest and personal healing, it began to come back to me.

Immediately it was obvious the enemy had been driven out, that knowledge coming from the fact I was still alive. Reinforcements had begun to poor in from out of Realm, more DoS members, healers, engineers and countless others. An army began to reform, prepared to push the remaining Drow out of the Realm.